The Good Greek Wife? (15 page)

‘I'd be a fool to deny that.'

Zarek's laugh was shaken, rough-edged.

‘But I'm not usually this irresponsible. This stupid.'

Irresponsible. Stupid. She had wanted to make love to the man who had her heart and he thought it had been
stupid
.

‘Oh, don't worry about it.'

She tried for bravado, acting as if she didn't care. She even managed to sort of shrug it off.

‘It doesn't matter.'

‘Even if it means that you might end up pregnant?'

The question hit her like a slap in the face. She really hadn't even considered that, hadn't spared a thought for the fact that they were not using any contraception. Or if the idea had flashed through her mind then she had pushed it away again, the need that was driving her far too powerful for caution.

Now she had to consider it. And do more than consider it. Because the look on Zarek's face had turned her blood to ice. Was it possible that just when she had resolved that her future lay with him, no matter what,
he
had decided that a child and a future with her was the last thing he wanted?

‘I don't want to talk about it.'

Not like this, not sitting here stark naked, totally exposed
in all possible ways, physically, emotionally. Somehow she made herself face him, schooling her expression into a total blank, revealing nothing.

‘I'd like my clothes, please.'

Was that cold stiff little voice really hers?

‘Your servant, ma'am…' Zarek murmured cynically, strolling over to where her jeans and tee shirt lay on the floor. Snatching them up, he tossed them in her direction, not caring that they fell several inches short and landed in a crumpled heap at her feet. She grabbed for them and scrambled into them as quickly as she could, well aware of the fact that he was pulling on his own clothes with much less haste and more efficiency. That, combined with the fact that he only pulled his shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned, meant that he was dressed well before her, giving him an unfair advantage. But with her own clothes on she at least regained some degree of confidence, ready to face whatever came.

And Zarek barely gave her time to pull the pink tee shirt over her head before he spoke again.

‘Penny—if you are pregnant…' he began and the sombre expression, the dark tone, seemed to tell their own story.

‘Don't!'

It was a cry of distress and she had to fight with herself not to put her hands over her ears, knowing she didn't want to hear him pronounce her fate.

‘Don't tell me you don't want…won't want a baby—'

‘Don't want?' Zarek cut across her in obvious consternation. ‘But it was you who never wanted a child. You said—'

‘I know what I said—and I lied!'

That stopped him dead. His hands that had gone to the buttons on his shirt now fell away again, leaving it gaping open over the wide expanse of his chest. Penny could see the
marks on his skin where her nails had caught him in the heat of their passion and she shivered in reaction to the realisation of just how out of control she had been.

‘You lied?'

She didn't think that the muscles in his face could get any tighter, or his eyes darker and more distant. But she had come this far now. There was no going back.

‘I lied when I said I didn't want a child. I did—I do. Just not…'

‘Just not my child,' Zarek finished for her when her tongue stumbled, unable to get the words out.

There was something in his tone that meant she couldn't leave it like that, no matter what the consequences.

‘Just not your heir!' she flashed at him and saw the way a frown snapped his black brows together in confusion.

‘Not my heir—my child. But they are both the same thing.'

‘No, they're not! Not at all! A child would be created out of love—the start of a family. Our family. But an heir—an heir to Odysseus Shipping—to keep Hermione, your stepbrothers, from getting their hands on the company—that's what you married me for, isn't it?'

‘I married you—' Zarek began but Penny couldn't let him continue. She couldn't bear it if he lied to her now. If he tried to dodge the truth. Because that was what she could see in his face. That he was actually going to try to soften the blow and, while her heart twisted with longing to hear the more gentle words from him, she knew she couldn't let it happen. That only the truth would do.

‘Tell me the truth, Zarek. Give me that at least. You never loved me when you married me. You wanted me in your bed. And you wanted an heir.'

The moments before he spoke seemed to last a lifetime.
And each one of them made her heart thud so painfully against her ribcage that she felt it was impossible to catch her breath, that she might actually pass out from the stress.

But then, slowly, and strangely almost sadly, Zarek nodded his dark head.

‘Yes,' he responded harshly but so clearly that there could be no doubt as to exactly what he was saying. ‘Yes, that's exactly why I married you.'

W
ELL
,
what had she expected? Penny asked herself. She had demanded the truth—had practically forced it out of him. So how could she complain when that truth tore her heart into pieces and left her bleeding and raw?

She didn't understand why it should hurt any more this time. After all, it was only what she had lived with before, what she had decided that she couldn't go on with any longer. But the trouble was that this time around she knew she couldn't make that decision all over again. She had already admitted to herself that she would have to put up with it. She had no other choice. She would take the little Zarek had to offer her and live with it. Because the two years without him had taught her that life without the man she loved in it was no life at all.

‘Thank you,' she began, icy with control. But even as she drew in a breath to complete the sentence a sudden uproar from outside broke into what she was trying to say, drowning her voice and making it impossible to continue.

The first thing was the sound of cars. Lots of cars and motorbikes racing up to the gates at the end of the drive, screeching to a halt. Then doors slamming, feet on the stones, on the grass. A knock at the door loud and long and deafeningly persistent.

‘Kyrie Michaelis—are you there? Is it true that you're home—that you're safe?'

‘Just a few questions…'

‘Can we have a word—an interview?'

And mingling with the demands, the questions, was Argus' low deep bark from behind the front door as he warned off the crowd who had suddenly descended on the house.

‘Who is it?'

Startled, shocked, Penny could only stare round her in bewilderment, looking into Zarek's face for some explanation of what was happening.

‘What's going on?'

But apart from a deep black frown that drew his brows together and the way he was shaking his head in disbelief, Zarek seemed to have no answer to give her. At least not one that could be heard above the pounding of fists on the door, the persistent, appalling, loud ringing of the doorbell.

Penny put her hands up to cover her ears, to try to drown out the battery of noise.

‘What is it? What's happening?'

Unable to bear it a moment longer she dashed across to the window, pulling back a corner of the curtains to look outside.

‘Penny—no!'

Zarek was right behind her, launching himself at her to grab hold of her arm, pull her away, drag her back into the middle of the room. But not before she had caught sight of what looked like a milling crowd of people outside. Men and women scrambling over each other to get near the door—or the window when they saw the curtains move. Pushing each other out of the way, elbowing them in the ribs, shoving them aside.

There were microphones and voice recorders and…

The flash of a couple of dozen or more camera bulbs made Penny jump in fright.

‘What—?' she began, but as soon as she had started to speak she suddenly knew what was happening, realisation dawning in the same moment that Zarek swore darkly and confirmed what she suspected.

‘The paparazzi, damn them. Someone has told them that I'm here and of course they couldn't miss out on a story like that. I can just see the headlines now—“Billionaire Returns from the Grave…”'

‘And would that be so bad?'

Now that she knew what was happening, Penny was no longer quite so disturbed. Of course the press would be interested in Zarek's return. His every move had been of interest to the celebrity magazines, the social columns, before they had married and their wedding had been the event of the year with editors of glossy magazines offering small fortunes—more than small ones—for exclusive access to the event, private photographs, the whole ‘whirlwind' romance story.

‘You want to face them now?' Zarek questioned dryly, gesturing to their disordered clothes, the wild tangle of her hair.

And there was only one answer to that, Penny acknowledged, shuddering faintly at the thought. How could they face the press pack now, after what had just happened? How could they even consider an interview or photographs looking like this? And feeling even worse.

Twitching the curtain back again, she peeped out, then jumped back as an explosion of flashbulbs burst right in her face, or so it seemed, blinding her for a moment.

‘Penny, get back! Look, it's me they want—I'll get rid of them. And then…'

The rest of what he was saying was drowned by another
storm of sound as Argus, held in check only by the door, doubled the intensity of his barking, throwing himself at the wood, roaring a challenge to all the intruders into his territory.

Zarek was gone before she could react or say anything and it was when he had left the room that Penny registered the way there had been an extra tension in his body, a raw edge to his voice. Something about his attitude brought thoughts of the night they had just spent together. The dream Zarek had had, and the memories that had shaken him so badly.

And those terrible words. ‘I felt alone.'

As she watched she saw him open the door, saw the horde of reporters rush forward. And just for a split second, too brief for anyone in the crowd to notice, she saw him flinch, saw the betraying gesture of his hand lifted to fret at the scar that she had seen so many times before and knew what it meant.

Alone.

Well, she wasn't going to stand here and just watch through the window, Penny told herself. She couldn't let him go through this on his own, with no one at his side. Pushing rough hands through her hair in a vain attempt to restore it to some sort of order and straightening her clothing as best she could, she hurried after her husband.

Zarek cursed the arrival of the paparazzi. It was just what he did not need right now. What he needed was time and peace and quiet in which to get to the bottom of just what was going through Penny's mind and, hopefully, to see just where everything had started to go wrong.

Because it had gone wrong. And gone far further than he had ever dreamed.

‘Kyrie Michaelis! A word!'

‘Zarek—just a question—or two…'

Another explosion of flashbulbs almost blinded him,
making him pause on the threshold to blink away the coloured blotches that had formed in his eyes so that he couldn't see where he was going. Experience of being in a situation like this in the past had taught him that the only thing to do was to paint a smile on your face and keep a pleasant tone on your tongue. Anything else would be taken as an indication of a story he was trying to hide. A bigger story than the one they thought they were covering. And if they didn't find it then they would make one up. But he had had two years without this sort of exposure and somehow he seemed to have lost the knack of switching on the public image as soon as it was needed.

‘What happened to you? Where have you been?'

The problem was that his mind was not fully on the situation outside the villa. His thoughts were inside the house, with Penny, seeing the look on her face, hearing the ice cold tone of her voice.

You wanted me in your bed. And you wanted an heir.

The words she had used rang inside his head, almost but not quite drowning out the persistent questions from the crowd of reporters in front of him. Somehow he supplied some answers. He knew he said Malta and amnesia and when they spotted the scar at his temple the flashbulbs went off with renewed fury. But all the time it was Penny's words, Penny's voice that nagged at his thoughts.

I lied when I said I didn't want a child. I did—I do.

Just not your heir.

‘Mr Michaelis, is it true that you will now be getting a divorce?'

‘What?'

That question got through all the other confusion that was buzzing in his mind. That question couldn't be answered off the top of his head, without thought. He didn't even know why they had asked it.

‘We heard that you will now be getting a divorce.'

‘Where did that come from?' As if he didn't know. Hermione—or Jason—was stirring up trouble again. But just the way he felt hearing the words told him what he had to do. What mattered.

But first he had to get rid of the paparazzi.

‘Your stepmother told us—so is it true?' the reporter persisted.

‘Is it true?' Zarek echoed coldly, dark eyes raking over the crowd in contempt. ‘What do you think? Would I want to change the way things are when I have just come home to be with the woman I love?'

‘But, Mr Michaelis—'

‘Enough!'

He was tempted to let go of Argus' collar and let the dog clear the driveway of the reporters. But right now he had more important matters on his mind. He needed to get back into the house and talk to Penny.

‘No more questions—no more photographs.'

He was moving back towards the door, taking the dog with him. A few more questions were thrown his way, a few more cameras flashed, but most of the crowd seemed to realise that they were not going to get any more out of him and already they were packing up their equipment, melting away.

Zarek didn't care what they did. He didn't pause, didn't look back until he was in the house. At one moment he glanced towards the door and saw Penny standing there, in the hallway, obviously having heard everything that had been said.

Good. The sight gave him some satisfaction. At least he would have one thing less to explain.

It was when her eyes connected with his and he saw the blank, closed-off expression in them that he felt an uncomfortable jolt. He saw her blue eyes flash just once in open
defiance and anger before she turned and walked away. There was no warmth in her face, no hint of a smile. So perhaps she hadn't heard.

Closing the door firmly on the departing crowd, he released Argus and went looking for her.

‘Penny—where are you?'

Penny was reluctant to answer his call. All she wanted to do was to go upstairs, pack and get out of the house as soon as possible. She didn't want to see Zarek's face ever again. But even she couldn't decide if it was because she was so furious at him for what he had done or because it would hurt so desperately to look into his eyes and know once and for all just how ruthless and uncaring he was. How little he cared for her.

She had kept out of sight behind the half-closed door so no one had seen her there. But she had seen everything that happened. Heard every word.

Heard every word that had fallen from Zarek's lying, cruel lips. The lips that such a short time before had kissed her into a delirium of delight and that now had coldly and callously dropped the most blatant lie into the waiting ears of the reporters, and no doubt into tomorrow's gossip column reports.

And she'd heard that appalling question.

‘Mr Michaelis, is it true that you will now be getting a divorce?'

For a moment the world had swung round her, blurring dangerously until she felt desperately nauseous. She had reached out to clutch at the door, holding onto its much-needed support, forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply until her head cleared. Then she had made herself look again.

And that was when Zarek had opened his mouth and told the most appalling lie she had ever heard him speak.

Or, correction, the first lie she had ever heard him speak.
Because no matter what else Zarek might have done he had never been a liar.

‘Would I want to change the way things are,' he had said, ‘when I have just come home to be with the woman I love?'

‘Penny!'

He wasn't going to let her get away. At least not until she had faced him.

‘Penny, where are you?'

Reluctantly Penny appeared in the doorway, her whole body taut, her head held stiffly upright. Once again, she tried the technique of not quite focusing her gaze so that she didn't have to look him straight in the face. There was the sound like a thousand angry bees buzzing inside her head and she couldn't concentrate on anything.

All she could think of was the way that Zarek had made love to her—Oh, dear God, no—he hadn't made love to her! He'd had sex with her, cold-blooded deliberate sex, with one intention only. That of making sure that she couldn't divorce him and—and maybe even to leave her pregnant as he had always wanted. And then—then… Her brain felt as if it would explode at just the thought of it—

Then he had had the nerve to declare to the reporters outside that he had come home to the woman he loved. The woman he
loved
. Zarek had never loved her. He had just told her so to her face.

Vaguely she became aware that Zarek was coming towards her, dark triumph in his eyes. He even smiled at her as he came close.

And she completely lost control of her temper.

‘How dare you!' she exploded, stopping him dead. He hadn't expected her to come out fighting. It was written all over his face.

‘How dare I what?' Zarek asked. ‘Penny—what…?'

‘Don't you, “Penny—what?” me! I know what was going on. I saw you, heard you… I heard you lie.'

‘No, I—'

‘Yes!'

She actually stamped her foot in rage, making Argus come running in from the kitchen to see what was happening.

‘How dare you claim to love me in front of those reporters?'

‘I didn't
claim
—I did not do it for that. Why would I?'

He actually reached out to her, almost took hold of her fingers, but she flung up her arms in a gesture of rejection, knocking his hand away.

‘Because we both know that…know that…'

Her breath caught in her throat making her gasp out loud, unable to go on.

‘Know what, Penny?' Zarek asked and she couldn't make out just what his tone was putting into the words.

‘That you only married me because you wanted to found a Michaelis dynasty and have an heir to leave Odysseus Shipping to.'

She could only be grateful that he had stopped coming closer to her now. He had frozen completely, standing stock-still, just a metre or so away from her. But for all that the distance they were apart was so small everything about him, the expression in his eyes, the way he held his long lean body so stiffly taut, made her feel as if a huge gaping chasm had opened up between them. One so big that it would be totally impossible ever to bridge it.